


cherries and wine

by exohousewarming, illinois_e



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Honeymoon, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-30 09:35:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12105837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exohousewarming/pseuds/exohousewarming, https://archiveofourown.org/users/illinois_e/pseuds/illinois_e
Summary: Sehun won't rest until he has a proper, almost-perfect, wedding night.





	cherries and wine

**Author's Note:**

> **Author Note:** writing porn is _so_ not my thing, but i'm trying to challenge myself and get out of my comfort zone. this is the result of it (and since i'm lame and got my own prompt, i guess i don't have anyone to disappoint besides myself) anyway, i really hope some of you like it!
> 
> ps: the title is from _cherry_ , by lana del rey

Junmyeon wakes up in a bed that is not his.

Sunlight passes through the window’s glass and hits him straight in the face. Strange—it’s winter in Korea, and in most mornings it’s impossible to see the sun from behind the clouds. The sheets under him are clean and soft, baby blue and white, and there’s a humming that resembles an air conditioning, but he can’t tell exactly from where it’s coming from.

He’s about to panic when he turns to side and sees black hair spread against the pillow, wide shoulders he knows a little too well uncovered by the blanket. Junmyeon lets his fingers trace yellow skin and dip in the space between shoulder blades. He still can’t remember where he is, but if Sehun is with him, there’s nothing to worry about.

That is, until he runs his palm over his face, trying to rub the sleep away, and there’s something ice cold biting his skin. Like… metal.

He stretches his left arm in front of his eyes and there it is—a ring. A golden, shiny, brand new ring.

A wedding ring.

It’s only then that the memories rush back to him. The flowers and the music and the lights, his friends cheering silently at him at the second row and his parents crying in the first one. He remembers trembling, waiting and waiting and _waiting,_ until Sehun came by the front arch, radiant in a black tux—also crying. Junmyeon remembers crying too. In fact, he is sure there were more tears flowing than what was acceptable for a wedding, but since none of them were sad, he thinks that it wasn’t a problem at all.

Junmyeon can’t hold back a small gasp when he examines the ring close. He’s watching light reflecting on the band when he catches a giggle next to him and turns on his side.

“I can’t believe you forgot we got married,” Sehun says, smiling. His voice is thick with sleep and his eyes are still only half open, but Junmyeon finds him beautiful oh so beautiful. He has never felt so in love before.  
“I didn’t! It’s just— I think I drank too much.” If there’s one thing he now remembers vividly is downing glass after glass of vodka along Minseok. “You say this as if I could forget the best day of my life.”

“You’re so cheesy!” Sehun exclaims, but there is a telltale blush coloring his cheeks. “And yes. I’m pretty sure you don’t remember, but I had to haul your drunk ass all the way from the airport to here. You’re lucky you’re tiny.”

Junmyeon wants to complain but he knows it’s a lost battle. Sehun is five years younger than him but at least five inches taller, and also broader. He was already tall when they both met in college, where Junmyeon was the new teacher with too much free time in his schedule, and Sehun, a graduating student with his hands full of assignments and in dire need of help. Six months later, none of their friends was surprised when they revealed that at least half of the time reserved for studying was spent fucking.

Still, he lets out a fake gasp, pretending to be shocked. “I can’t believe we married yesterday but we’re already bickering like an elderly couple.”

“You say this as if we didn’t date for three years.” Sehun rolls on top of him and it’s only then that Junmyeon notices he’s naked. Both of them are, in fact, but even if they weren’t there would be no way to hide Sehun’s hard on pressing against his hip. “And there’s something else that happened yesterday — or in the early hours of this morning — that you don’t remember.”

“There is?” Junmyeon asks, preparing himself for something terrible and embarrassing like _you told my mother I’m a screamer_ or something the type. “Are you sure?”

Sehun looks at him like he was expecting that. “Yes, I’m sure. I wouldn’t forget the fact that, even if we had a proper wedding and everything, we didn’t have a _wedding night_. And that was because you started snoring as soon as your back hit the bed.”

Oh, shit.

“But… Didn’t you blow me in one of the bathrooms while the party was still going on? I guess that counts as a wedding night.”

“Junmyeon,” Sehun says, sitting upright on Junmyeon’s thighs and there’s absolutely no way he can’t feel the now Junmyeon’s cock springing to life against his ass. “If it doesn’t end with your cock buried inside me, then it’s not a wedding night.”

“But, luckily for you,” he continues, grinding his hips so slow over Junmyeon’s cock that it’s almost torture. It has always been like this between them—Sehun pulls and he goes and goes and goes. “I’m a very forgiving person. A very forgiving _husband,_ and so that you know, I would be quite content with a wedding morning.”

“Would you?” Junmyeon asks, now fully awake, raising his hips to slide his cock in between Sehun’s cheeks, making him shudder. His boyfriend — pardon, his _husband_ — doesn’t answer him, and instead bends down so they can kiss.

If their wedding kiss was just a slight brush of their lips, their wedding night/morning kiss is anything but. Sehun is relentless, brushing his tongue against Junmyeon’s, biting the swell of his bottom lip and _still_ grinding down, moving his hips so that the head of Junmyeon’s cock brushes against his rim and Junmyeon, God helps him, might go crazy.

He lets his hands find the firmness of Sehun’s thighs, his grip firm and almost hurtful, feeling the flesh shift against his fingers as he makes his way up until he has Sehun’s hips secured in his grasp. And Sehun, the little shit, shifts his position only enough that now is his cock that’s sliding against Junmyeon’s every time they move, and if Junmyeon were a slightly weaker man, he would have given up and just let Sehun ride him like there’s was no tomorrow.

But he isn’t weak, and he had _plans_ for their wedding night, plans that were obviously postponed by his impromptu inability to hold his liquor; but plans that he would make sure to follow, no matter how much Sehun whined about it.

After all, it’s not like he doesn’t love to hear Sehun’s — breathless heated needy — whines.  
He raises his hips, then, and taking advantage of the moment when Sehun loses his balance, he inverts their positions, getting on top of Sehun’s body with his most sweet smile, dripping honey by the edges—the smile that says _i love you_ and _i’m gonna eat you up_ at the same time. Sehun knows it well.

“Now,” he says, placing a finger against Sehun’s lips. “You didn’t think I would let you rush this, were you?

“Junmyeon…” Sehun swallows hard and looks at Junmyeon, but the damned smile is still there.

And while Sehun is much more of a _taking cock like a pro_ guy, one who loves the thrill of public spaces and records videos’ while fingering himself so that he can send them to Junmyeon while the elder is working, Junmyeon is — and always has been and, most certainly, always will be — someone who thrives in slow, sweat teasing on a king sized bed with satin sheets under him; someone who likes to spend all day lazing off, kissing every bit of skin he lays his eyes upon, savoring Sehun’s body like it is his last supper.

Because Junmyeon adores beautiful things, and there’s nothing more beautiful to him than Sehun, pliant and open, begging for him.

“This is our wedding night, baby. Let me take care of you, okay?” He runs his fingers on the insides of Sehun’s thighs delicately, just a ghost of pressure, barely there, delighting himself in the way a shiver makes its way down Sehun’s body. “No need to rush anything.”

“Don’t tease,” Sehun pleads, but it’s low and almost resigned, because he knows there’s no way Junmyeon can do it without teasing, even if it’s just a little bit. It’s carved in his bones, the need to bring him apart piece by piece. “I’m your husband, you shouldn’t tease me. It’s against the rules.”

Junmyeon chuckles in disregard while he nips at Sehun’s neck, from under his jaw until his shoulder, and then does it again, backwards, kissing the places where his teeth were. With the arm that he’s not using to prop himself up, he lets his hand wander over the planes of Sehun’s torso, running down from his sternum to his navel, almost grazing his nipples but not quite; not how Sehun wants it—and he lets Junmyeon know by the small whine that leaves his mouth.

He wants to reverse their positions again, but there’s no denying how nice it is, sometimes, to simply lay down and let Junmyeon work his way on him, tasting every bit of skin on his body. His fingers leave goosebumps on their awakening when they travel too close to where the head of Sehun’s cock rests against his navel, and it's something out of this world, the way Junmyeon controls his body with a touch here and there, a nip on his chest and a suck on his nipple, almost to say sorry. Sehun, he can't lie, always liked the extra attention.  
There's no need to hurry—it's not like they don't have the rest of their life to fuck everywhere they deem fit.

Without saying a word, Junmyeon motions for Sehun to turn over and he complies, willing—or more than that. Pliant, even, as he opens his legs and raises his ass in the air. Junmyeon’s breath hitches but he ignores it and goes straight for Sehun’s broad back, kissing every vertebrae until he reaches his tailbone. He does it again, goes lower this time, stopping right where the curve of his ass begins.

Sehun raises himself more, searching, _wanting,_ and Junmyeon wants to give him everything, wants do it exactly what Sehun wants him do it, because that is how much he adores him. But not now, he can’t. There are some things he wants to do before letting Sehun have his cock.

“I said _no need to rush anything,_ didn’t I?” Junmyeon whispers against Sehun’s ear, nipping at his lobe while his hands roam free over his husband’s ass, kneading the cheeks and, just one or twice, grazing the pads of his thumbs against his entrance. “Is there something you want, Sehun?”

Sehun mutters something back at him, words muffled by the pillow. Junmyeon gives his ass a light smack in retaliation. “I didn’t hear you.”

With Junmyeon there is no game unless it’s loud and clear.

“Please,” Sehun begged, turning his face around so that Junmyeon could see his eyes shining with pent-up want. “Please, touch me.”

He hums in agreement. That’s more like it. “You need to tell me where, baby.”

“Put your tongue on me. Fuck, Junmyeon, eat me out.”

Now, how can Junmyeon resist this?

(and the answer is: he can't)

“Like this?” he says, licking a spot dangerously close to Sehun’s entrance but not _there,_ and it's the final teasing before Sehun lets a long whine from his throat and it’s the last straw before Junmyeon sends his plan to hell and gives in.

He starts slow, tracing him with the tip of his tongue and feeling as Sehun shudders against his mouth, the muscles of his legs taut so as not to tremble—Junmyeon wants them to tremble. He changes his strategy, laying his tongue flat and licking Sehun’s entrance like it's made of sugar. Each flick of it is accompanied by dozens of curses and grunts spilling from Sehun’s mouth.

“Oh, fuck”, he moans, and it's a good thing that he started this with face down on the pillow or, breathless as he is, he would have fallen already. “Fuck, Junmyeon, please. Inside, please.”

Instead, Junmyeon detaches his mouth from Sehun’s rim, blowing warm air over it one last time before standing up. “Stay,” he warns Sehun, but the tone of his voice is more like a caress than anything else. “Where is the lube?”

“Handbag. First pocket,” Sehun rasped, with his ass high the air and his cock dangling heavy and leaking between his open legs. His knees tremble with the effort of keeping the position but he keeps himself still, waiting for Junmyeon with want thrumming beneath his skin.

With the lube in his hands, Junmyeon finds himself warming it before entering Sehun with just one finger. Sehun whines and asks for more, and Junmyeon gives in, slipping another finger alongside the first, scissoring them inside and brushing Sehun’s walls, feeling as them clench against him, searching for more—Sehun _always_ wants more.

“Feeling good, baby?” he asks, crooking his fingers inside him. Sehun’s back is glistening with sweat and, if Junmyeon could, he would keep him like this for days, with his soft whines and shallows breaths. Perfect. Junmyeon always thinks Sehun is perfect, but like this? He wants to worship this Sehun as he would do with a god.

“Please,” he pleads. “Please, fuck me. I can’t— Junmyeon, I can’t—”

“Easy, easy.” Junmyeon retreats his fingers and uses his clean hand to stroke Sehun’s side slowly, lovingly, as if he hadn’t his tongue in Sehun’s ass minutes ago. He strokes both of Sehun sides before slowly maneuvering him until he’s with his back against the mattress. “I want see your face, baby.”

“Oh God, Junmyeon. You’re so cheesy. I swear if you don’t stick your cock inside me right now I’m gonna divorce you.”

Junmyeon laughs with his teeth showing while Sehun looks at him with his better _i’m not kidding_ expression — or the best he can do while sweaty and breathless, and after having literally begged for his cock — but he complies, He kneels in between Sehun’s legs and aligns his cock with his entrance, brushing the head against it. Sehun arches his hips up, rubbing against Junmyeon’s cock. “I’m going to do it slow, ok?”

“Junmyeon, please, don’t— oh fuck fuck _fuck,_ ” Junmyeon throws his head back as his cock disappears inside Sehun, so slow it’s tortuous even for him—for Sehun, whose fingers are trembling even as he grips the sheets, it must be madness. He can feel Sehun’s body opening up for him, surrounding his member with softness and heat.

And even though he too does love a quick and hard fuck, Junmyeon knows that there’s nothing that can left him so satisfied afterward as moments like these.

It feels like an eternity until he bottoms out with a loud groan, hands firm on Sehun’s hips to keep him in place. He bends down until their faces are almost touching, breath tickling Sehun’s cheeks, and then, and only then, he starts thrusting. It’s agony—letting his cock almost slip out of Sehun and then putting it all back again as he searches for his prostate, watching how he can reduce Sehun to a mess of strangled moans and _junmyeon please please please please_ every time he brushes against the right spot.

Sehun wraps his legs tighter around his hips and presses the ball of his feet against his back, trying to force Junmyeon to go faster, but he resists, for a while. At least, until Sehun clenches around him and bites his own lip, as only the devil himself could do, and Junmyeon has to throw all of his self-control through the window.

He lets himself go faster and faster and faster. His teeth close on Sehun’s shoulder when he starts thrusting on his earnest, unafraid that the other guests of the hotel might hear both his and Sehun’s loud moans. One of his hands lets go on Sehun’s hips and wraps itself around his cock.

“Come for me,” he whispers, breath warm against Sehun’s ear, and just like that he tenses, first, under him, dirtying his stomach, the sheets and Junmyeon’s hand with strings of come. After, he goes limp, and it’s Junmyeon who holds him in place as he continues brushing his prostate with almost every thrust.

“Junmyeon,” Sehun breathes, opening to look at him. He strokes his torso with one hand, from his chest down until his stomach, and smears his fingers with his own mess before bringing them past his lips.

The vision is enough to let the fire pooling low in his abdomen spread all over his body, and he feels himself rippling with shockwave after shockwave pulsing through his cock as he shoots white inside of Sehun, painting him his.

(his _husband_ )

Junmyeon pulls out and falls back on the other side of the bed, tired but utterly sated. Sehun snuggles against his neck and he can’t help but smile as his post-orgasm bliss draws off, rolling to the side and maneuvering Sehun until they are in his favorite position for cuddles.  
“That was nice, wasn’t it?” he asks, when both of them have regained control over their breathing. His arm is thrown over Sehun’s shoulder, caressing whatever patch of skin he can reach.

Sehun hums in agreement, taking Junmyeon’s hand with his own and pressing his lips against the ring on his fourth finger. “If marriage is gonna be like this, you should have proposed to me sooner.” They both laugh, and the smell of musk and sex weighing the room, the dirty sheets under them, both their skins sticky with sweat—these things stop mattering while they fall into themselves.

“Don’t worry, we have all the time in the world now.”

“Actually,” Sehun begins, rolling to the side to grab his cellphone in the bedside table. “We only have one hour until that scuba diving thing you paid for.”

“We can do it another day.”

“Yes, but you paid beforehand! And besides,” Sehun stomach growls, anticipating his next words. “I’m hungry.”

“There’s room service, Sehun.”

“Did you truly brought me to the Caribbean so that we could ask for _room service,_ Oh Junmyeon?”

Sehun smiles and Junmyeon can help but smile with him. “We’re staying here for two weeks, _Kim Sehun._ There will be plenty of time for you to visit every corner of this island. I forgot in which one we are, by the way.”

“I think it’s Antigua. You should know, you bought the tickets. And the hotel. And everything, because I’m broke.”

Junmyeon stands up and rummages through their bags until he finds a box of tissues. “Well, I got drunk on your beauty or something equally cheesy last night and forgot all about it.”

Sehun laughs again, closing his eyes and stretching in the bed like a cat. “You know you’ll have to repay me, right? We’ll be having dinner in the restaurant I choose tonight. No complaints.”

“Deal.” Junmyeon finishes cleaning them both and gives Sehun’s lips a peck before reaching for the room phone. “What do you want for lunch?”

“I don’t know. Chicken?”

“You came to Antigua to eat _Chicken?_ ”

“Well, considering you came to Antigua to eat _me_ , chicken sounds pretty good.”

Junmyeon is still trying to stifle his laugh when he orders the food and, as he falls back on the bed and brings the covers over them, he can’t help but to think he had never felt this happy before, like the stitches keeping him together are going to tear with the sheer force of his love, and he’ll end up like a helium balloon, floating high up the sky.

“God, the things I do for love,” Sehun says, hand in chest for the dramatic effect. Just a glance at him and Junmyeon can see that he is, too, overjoyed with life. _Their_ life, _together._

There’s a whole island waiting for them. There’s a whole _world_ waiting for them, but Junmyeon thinks that for now, that hotel room is enough.

He intertwines their left hands, letting the rings brush against each other, metal with metal and heart with heart. It’s more than enough.


End file.
